


Scars

by JayceCarter



Series: Kinktober 2017 [31]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Amputation, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kinktober 2017, Scars, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 15:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12560796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: After Nora suffers a serious injury, Arthur wants her to stay aboard the Prydwen. After some arguing, they're forced to admit there is something between them.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 30: Scars
> 
> Why is Arthur in so many stories? He's worse than Hancock. 
> 
> Also, this means there is only ONE MORE kinktober fic coming. yay!!

 

Nora stormed into Arthur’s quarters ready to yell. She’d just received word that he expected her to stay aboard the Prydwen for at least a week to recover from her injury. Bullshit, utter bullshit.

 

She’d seen what he did to Ingram, the way he’d kept her out of combat despite Cade’s insistence she was ready.

 

So now, with Nora’s arm gone below the elbow, he was going to try the same shit with her. Cade had already fitted her for the prosthetic, gotten it working, and she was ready. It had been a week already, and she was going stir crazy.

 

She slammed the door shut behind her loud enough all the ship had to hear it.

 

“I fucking swear I’ll put you over my knee, Arthur-“ Her voice cut off as she turned and spotted Arthur.

 

He stood in the middle of the room with only a towel wrapped low on his hips, wet hair brushed back from his face. 

 

“Well fuck,” Nora added.

 

Arthur crossed his arms, one of his dark eyebrows lifting. “Fitting language for a Brotherhood Knight?”

 

She shook her head, dragging her gaze up to his eyes. “When her commanding officer decides to bubble wrap her, it is.”

 

“I am assuming you received word about being assigned to the Prydwen?”

 

“Yeah. Cade sent it in a letter because he knew I’d shoot him if he tried to tell me face to face. You can’t do this to me, Arthur.”

 

“I’m doing nothing to you. You need time to adjust.”

 

“Time? Like what you gave Ingram? Because it’s been how long and you haven’t let her back into the field?”

 

“That’s not fair, Jacobs. Ingram is where she does the most good. Without her we couldn’t-“

 

“Bullshit!”

 

They both froze at how Nora snapped. Sure, she yelled sometimes, but she tended to walk the line between snark and insubordinate. She’d now trampled right over that line.

 

“Knight,” he warned.

 

Nora walked forward and shoved Arthur. She didn’t want to hurt him, just wanted him to listen. She hadn’t adjusted to the strength of her new arm, however, and it flung Arthur back.

 

He caught himself on the wall and managed to stay on his feet.

 

Nora’s eyes went wide, then she looked down at her hands, at the difference between them. She looked almost like Nick. She swallowed hard, squeezing her hands into fists, the metal of her new hand groaning. “I’m sorry.”

 

Arthur set his hands over hers, over them both. She couldn’t feel anything, no pressure, no warmth, nothing on her prosthetic. “I’m not trying to trap you, Nora. I’m just trying to let you get used to this. Yes, Ingram hasn’t been allowed, and that is because she is at far more risk than you. What happens if someone shoots out her fusion core? She is stranded. Even if your prosthetic were damaged or removed, you could still fight and shoot with your other hand.”

 

“I’ve still got a lot to do, Arthur. I can’t just hide out up here.”

 

“I know, and I don’t expect you to hide here.” He released her good hand and grasped her chin, forcing her eyes up to his. “I just expect you not to go running back into the field before you’re ready. Take some time, heal, rest. The Commonwealth isn’t going anywhere.”

 

Nora reached up, fingers tracing the scar on his face. “Is that what you did after this?”

 

“No. I was Arthur Maxson. I was thirteen, and I had a legacy to live up to. The doctor used a stimpack and by the next day, I was back to training. I should have, though. I should have taken time, and now that I am in a position to ensure it, you will.” He released her chin and stretched her prosthetic out, fingers running over it. “This is good work. How are you feeling about it?”

 

“Less like a super hero than I thought I would.” Nora dropped her gaze from his eyes to his chest, only to find a large darkening bruise there from where she’d pushed him. “Great. I bruised the great Elder Maxson. It’s like smudging a classic painting. They’re going to throw me in the brig, now.”

 

Arthur laughed, the movement of his chest reminding Nora exactly how little he was wearing. “I think I’ll survive.”

 

Nora touched the mark on his chest, studying him, taking in the other scars. They stood out on his skin, white lines against the expanse of his chest. Her fingers slid over his skin, tracing each mark.

 

Meanwhile, his hands moved over her new arm, studying it. Both lost in the scars of the other, it seemed.

 

It wasn’t that Nora hadn’t ever thought of him that way. Hard to ignore Arthur when he walked around the Prydwen, hands behind his back, chest puffed out. She just had accepted the reality of their positions. He was in charge and she was a pain in his ass.

 

Those two things didn’t set people up for romance.

 

Still, the way their fingers skimmed over each other, she couldn’t rule it out.

 

“Do you want to leave, Nora?” His hands worked over the transition from her arm to the prosthetic, following the line that separated it. “Maybe now isn’t the best time to address whatever this is.”

 

“Why? I lost my arm, not my brain.”

 

“Because there are a lot of things changing, and getting involved with anyone as complicated as I am might be worthy of a bit more thought and a clearer head.”

 

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a love-struck teenager, Arthur. How do I know this isn’t you being foolish and young?”

 

He slid a hand from her arm to the small of her back, pulling her closer until she pressed against his chest. The dampness of his skin soaked her clothing. “I’ve wanted you since you walk aboard and yelled at me, Nora. You’ve just always been too busy to notice. Now is the first time you’ve slowed down enough I could catch you.”

 

She ran her fingers over his side, each hand drifting up to his chest, judging the difference between hands. When she moved over his collarbone, he flinched.

 

Nora sighed and pulled backward. She still couldn’t control the damned arm. Guess that made him right about her needing more time. “This is stupid. I’m sorry.”

 

Arthur caught her good hand and pulled her back. He slid his other hand to the back of her neck and leaned down, taking her lips in a kiss. Her arm drifted away, all the problems of the Institute and the Railroad and everything.

 

When he broke the kiss, he moved his hand from the back of her neck to stroke across her bottom lip. “Don’t leave because of something foolish, Nora. So, you’ll need to gain better control of your arm, that isn’t unexpected. Let’s just keep it away from any sensitive areas, and we’ll be fine.”

 

“You make jokes now? What is it, the battlecoat comes off and you’re suddenly hilarious?”

 

“Perhaps. Do you think if I got something off you, you’d be friendlier?”

 

“Maybe.” Nora dropped her gaze before being willing to answer his outrageous flirting. “But I don’t think you’d need to get anything off me. I think you’d just need to get me off.”

 

He was silent for a moment, for so long Nora started to second guess the joke. Maybe that was too far, too forward. Arthur wasn’t the same in the trenches soldier she’d grown used to, the sort who would take her verbal sparring for the joke it was.

 

Well, a half-joke, at least.

 

When she went to push back, to apologize and slink away before she could make any more of a fool of herself, Arthur’s hand went to the side of her neck thumb angling her face up to kiss her again. This wasn’t the gentle one of earlier, a teasing, testing try. This showed just how much he’d been thinking about this, how much he wanted it.

 

His tongue pressed past her lips, claiming her mouth, hand tight around her neck like he thought she might slip away.

 

Though, hadn’t she? Again and again, she’d slipped away, running off to do all the things she needed to, leaving him behind to wait for word.

 

His fingers dug into her like a brand, one she knew she’d never get rid of, one she didn’t want to get rid of.

 

The towel slid away, but the press of their bodies kept it pinned between them. He broke the kiss to speak between the touch of his lips to her throat as he crouched to reach her better. “Do you have any idea how many times I imagined touching you? Tasting you? I could hardly pay attention when you brought reports because I just wanted to drag you in here with me. I had to scold myself for staring at you when I was supposed to be strategizing, working.”

 

She laughed at the admission, and the way he groaned the words out like he’d been holding them in the whole time.

 

Nora reached for her the button of her pants, flicking it open with only her good hand, too afraid of using her other and ruining the moment. She shifted her hips to help squirm the pants off before toeing off her shoes and stepping with her feet to free herself entirely.

 

Arthur caught her thighs and lifted her, moving them until her back struck the wall of his quarters. He used that to free one hand, her thighs tight around his waist. “Maybe we should slow down?” Even as he asked, his hand wrapped around his cock, rubbing it against her. “This is fast, and I don’t want to-“

 

Nora silenced him with a nip to his bottom lip. “If anyone knows how fast things change, it’s me. I want this. I want to feel normal again.”

 

He nodded once before sinking into her, filling her slowly.

 

Nora set her hands on his shoulders, but a grimace from him said she’d gripped too tight. Instead, she lifted her arm and grasped the beam on the wall beside them, fingers squeezing down there to keep her prosthetic away from ‘sensitive areas’ as he’d said.

 

Arthur returned both hands to her ass, using them along with the snap of his hips to fuck her. Her back hit the wall with every thrust, the cold metal welcome against her heated skin.

 

He returned to her lips, kissing her, heavy breaths spilling against her. His beard scratched her face and she tightened her arm around the back of his neck, rolling her hips to meet each thrust.

 

The metal of the beam groaned beneath her grip, her fingers twisting.

 

Arthur broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers, eyes closed, fingers digging into her skin with each movement.

 

At the last moment, just before he came, he pulled out of her. A deep groan as he spilled on the floor. He didn’t set her right down, twisting to set her feet on the ground beside him, probably to avoid his come.

 

Nora’s gaze lifted to the beam she’d gripped. The metal was mangled, twisted into a mess of sharp angles.

 

“That’s one hell of a hand,” Arthur said as he used his towel to wipe up the floor.

 

“As long as it stays away from sensitive areas?”

 

He tossed the towel into a basket by the door, then drug his hand through his still damp hair. “Stay the night?” When she hesitated, he tried again. “You can yell at me some more if that tempts you.”

 

Nora didn’t know what to say, so she only nodded and followed him.

 

Hours later, they laid in the bed, her head resting on his chest, his hands still moving over her prosthetic.

 

“I almost lost you,” he whispered into the darkness.

 

“What?”

 

“This.” His fingers tapped against the metal. “That deathclaw could have killed you, Nora. If it had closed its jaws around you throat, or your stomach, instead of your arm? You’d have never come back here and I’d never have had this chance to make things right. Too many things in my life have gone unsaid. I never had the chance to say things to my parents, to Sarah Lyons, to so many others before they were snatched away. I almost repeated the same mistake with you.”

 

Nora twisted so her bare chest pressed against his, their skin warm and still covered in sweat from the rounds that kept starting up. She touched his scar again. “This could have taken your eye, could have easily killed you. I figured, out of anyone, you’d understand that’s the life we live.”

 

“I do understand it.” He lifted her prosthetic and pressed a kiss to it. “I’m just tired of it. Do you think we’ll ever live a life where we stop collecting scars?”

 

Nora drug her thumb across his cheek, careful of her strength. “Maybe. Is that what you want?”  

 

“With you? Yes, assuming we can stay alive long enough.”

 

She smiled, scooting down so her cheek rested against his chest, over the multitude of scars there. “Well, I guess that’s a pretty good reason to stay alive, isn’t it?”

 


End file.
